Chapter Forty-Three: What Right Do You Have to Lecture Me

She truly wished she could play dead. Wasn’t this the sort of scene that only appeared in novels, TV dramas, or movies? Yet now, it was unfolding between her and Fu Chen—an irony that verged on the absurd.

Since she had no words for the moment, Shen Huaiqing simply feigned unconsciousness, tightly shutting her eyes.

Fu Chen glanced down at the person in his arms, finding it all rather amusing. Moments ago, she had negotiated with him like a strong, unyielding woman, and now she intended to shrink away like a turtle hiding in its shell. This was so very typical of Shen Huaiqing—unpredictable, capricious.

She kept her eyes closed for a long while, but felt no movement from Fu Chen. Her heart twisted with anxiety, and after some hesitation, she finally opened one eye, just a sliver.

She met Fu Chen’s dark gaze directly, and there was unmistakable laughter dancing in his eyes.

Mortified, Shen Huaiqing wished she could vanish into thin air. Why did she always manage to make a fool of herself in front of Fu Chen, often without even realizing it?

“How long do you plan to lie there?” Fu Chen pinched her delicate nose, his gesture full of indulgent affection.

Shen Huaiqing sat up in a flash, affecting nonchalance. “I was just startled a moment ago and froze for a second! Don't read too much into it.”

Fu Chen’s hand was still at her waist, and it struck him how slender she was—something he’d never really noticed before.

“It’s fine if you freeze up,” he murmured, leaning in so close that his words brushed her ear, his voice low and magnetic, brimming with temptation.

His warm breath at her ear made her deeply uncomfortable. She’d always despised this kind of behavior from Fu Chen, and yet, in this moment, she found herself not resisting at all.

“Fu Chen, don’t be like this,” Shen Huaiqing protested, awkwardly turning her head. As she glanced back, she caught Madam Feng’s eye, which only deepened her embarrassment.

Madam Feng was genuinely happy for the two of them, though she hadn’t expected them to be so affectionate right in the living room. Flustered, she quickly retreated to her own room.

“Don’t be like what?” Fu Chen teased, his grip tightening around Shen Huaiqing’s waist, his nose trailing along her neck. Despite her recent exercise, there was not a trace of sweat on her; instead, she carried a faint, flowery fragrance that was soothing to the senses.

“Didn’t Lin Yiqing satisfy you?” Shen Huaiqing asked abruptly.

Fu Chen stilled. In truth, he’d been suppressing himself for quite some time. No matter how Lin Yiqing tried to entice him, he never had any interest.

But Shen Huaiqing was like a poppy—dangerous and alluring. Every gesture, every inch of her, set Fu Chen ablaze.

“I didn’t sleep with her,” Fu Chen said seriously, his dark eyes fixed on her.

“Do you think I’m a fool? Fu Chen, I know your tricks all too well. Whenever something happens, this is always how you act.”

“I’m really fed up.” Shen Huaiqing broke free from his embrace, her gaze icy.

Fu Chen was surprised by her reaction. She’d always played along when things got intimate before—was it the business with Mu Jinghuai that had finally pushed her over the edge?

“What? You’re happy to let Mu Jinghuai treat you that way?” he retorted, recalling the scene he’d witnessed in the hotel room—the image of Mu Jinghuai sitting at her bedside still stoked his fury.

Shen Huaiqing looked down at Fu Chen, her face full of indignation. “Why bring him up? Haven’t you tormented him enough? It’s utterly senseless.”

Fu Chen pulled her roughly into his arms, growling through clenched teeth, “Senseless? My wife was taken to a hotel by another man, and I was already merciful not to ruin him!”

Shen Huaiqing froze. She hadn’t realized Mu Jinghuai’s ordeal was because of this.

“Cat got your tongue? I stayed up all night by your side! You called his name in your sleep—so what right do you have to lecture me about Lin Yiqing?” Fu Chen’s grip tightened on her chin, as if he might crush her bones.

“We agreed not to interfere in each other’s business, didn’t we? Or are you jealous?” Shen Huaiqing challenged, stubbornly holding his gaze.

Fu Chen found himself at a loss. All he remembered was the overwhelming rage when he got that call—he’d nearly wanted to kill Mu Jinghuai. He’d prepared himself for any possible scene when he opened that hotel door, terrified that he’d find Shen Huaiqing and Mu Jinghuai naked together. He didn’t know if his anxiety and anger stemmed from wounded pride or from a possessiveness he dared not name.

Or perhaps it was simply that, in his heart, he had already claimed Shen Huaiqing as his own, and would allow no one else to touch her.

“You let him take you away in front of everyone—do you realize how publicly you humiliated me, Shen Huaiqing? I was already being lenient by only putting Mu Jinghuai under house arrest.”

Yet Fu Chen still didn’t voice his true feelings; he refused to admit how deeply she had gotten under his skin.

Shen Huaiqing narrowed her eyes, scrutinizing Fu Chen. “Is it just your pride that’s wounded, or do you hope to get something out of Mu Jinghuai?”

She knew Fu Chen had always harbored suspicions about her identity, and with Mu Jinghuai the only possible lead, it was obvious there were other motives for his actions.

“I suspect you’re not really Shen Huaiqing,” Fu Chen confessed. It made little difference to him if she knew; she could not stop his investigation.

She was taken aback by his honesty.

“Then who do you think I am? How did I take her place? And why would I do such a thing?” she shot back, sharp and quick.

These were the very questions Fu Chen had yet to answer for himself. All he had was the name “Song Hui,” but even after investigating everyone in Nancheng, he’d found nothing. Besides, why would the Shen family let someone impersonate their own daughter? The Fu family was hardly a den of wolves and tigers.

Fu Chen’s hand traced gently along her cheek, his smile tender. “To be honest, none of that matters to me anymore. Whoever you are, you’re now the heiress of the Shen family. You’re clever—so long as you cooperate with me, I don’t care who you are.”

Shen Huaiqing didn’t believe a word of it. If she stopped being useful to him, she would lose her only value in his eyes. Fu Chen was just trying to lower her guard.

A sly smile curved her lips, her almond eyes glittering with mischief. “But Fu Chen, now I’m starting to suspect you.”

Fu Chen’s expression didn’t change. “And who do you think I am?”

Shen Huaiqing pressed her red lips to his ear and whispered, “Are you an illegitimate child?”

A buzz went off in Fu Chen’s head. His grip on her waist tightened, his tone icy. “In ancient times, you’d have your tongue cut out for such nonsense.”

It was only a guess on Shen Huaiqing’s part, a test to see his reaction. Yet his response confirmed her suspicions more than any words could.

“The truth lives in the heart,” she said, tapping his chest with her sharp fingertip.